Death's Servant (The V V Inn, First Prequel Book)

  Death’s Servant

  First Prequel Novel of

  The V V Inn Series

  ~ Jon’s Tale ~

  C.J. Ellisson

  Red Hot Publishing

  P.O. BOX 651193, STERLING VA, 20165-1193

  First ebook Edition April 2013

  Copyright 2013 C.J. Ellisson

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN 9781938601132

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (or undead ;-), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my parents, Margery and Jerry Stern. Thank you for always believing I could do anything I set my mind to.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  “Jon!” Romeo’s deep voice follows as I stride quickly down the hall. “Get back here.”

  I round the top of the stairs and descend at full speed, skipping steps in my haste to leave. Anger pulses like a living beast beneath my skin. If I don’t get the hell out of here, my alpha and I will come to blows.

  The urge to fight, to answer the call of my inner wolf, colors my vision, tinting the werewolf pack’s large home in a wash of red haze. Claws itch to descend through my clenched fists, and the brush of fur waiting to erupt tingles my skin.

  “This is not over.” Romeo’s booming shout thunders through the house. “Get back here now, or don’t ever come back!”

  This time he’s getting what he threatens. What’s so crazy about suggesting a support network for wolves? Why am I suddenly the object of scorn and ridicule? Is organizing packs somehow a threatening concept to our way of life?

  A tiny voice inside whispers, Your suggestion of such a change goes against everything a werewolf pack stands for.

  Could that be true? Would instilling communication among hundreds of Weres hurt us as a species?

  I block the denials I’ve heard for months. Doesn’t make sense. Could Romeo’s resistance stem from something bigger? Should I listen to the gossip saying I’ve evolved into an alpha faster than anyone expected? There is only one male alpha per pack, not two; one mated pair deciding the fate of their wolves, and those who don’t agree must leave. Or fight for supremacy.

  I barrel out the front door and sprint toward the detached garage, where a few of the single wolves have bedrooms in the space above the cars. I throw open the door, the heavy steel bouncing off the siding in my unchecked rage. I need to talk to Lori, my werewolf girlfriend in the pack. I’m ready to leave and want her with me.

  My inner beast gnashes its teeth, ready for a challenge, eager to return and face the man who saved my life over a year ago. Tamping down the temptation, I rush the inner stairs three at a time. The scent of half a dozen wolves lies heavy in the confined space, confusing the rational part of my mind struggling to remain in control.

  I recall the past in an effort to still my raging desires—I owe this man my life. Romeo found me lost and afraid when I awoke in the hospital, uncertain of what I’d become. Elsa, his wife, sensed immediately I was different, discouraging her mate to allow me into their pack. Romeo didn’t care. He recognized me for what I truly was—a scared college kid who didn’t know what the fuck happened to his well-ordered life.

  When I reach the upper hall, I’m jolted out of my calming reverie by sounds of passion. I smile, wondering who Kotsana has lured to his waterbed now.

  “That’s it, baby,” a familiar female voice coos softly. “You know I like it good and deep.”

  The instant anger near the surface of my mind threatens to overwhelm me. I stop cold—leaning a hand on the wall, gasping to catch my breath—while my packmate screws my girlfriend beyond his shut bedroom door. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to block images conjured by the sound of the big wolf making waves on his water mattress.

  A soft panting noise reaches my ears and I know what’s next—Lori’s about to peak and scream to the high heavens. I wasn’t sure if I loved her or if my feelings were caught up in the passion of our relationship. But all I feel right now is a white hot fury and a desire to tear someone apart with my bare hands, limb from limb.

  Before I think through my actions, the doorknob to Kotsana’s room is in my hand and I tear the door off the frame. The sound of splintering wood rips through the air and freezes them both on the bed. Lori’s mouth opens in a silent O of shock.

  I surge into the room and loom over their naked, sweating bodies. “Two-timing bitch!”

  Lori grabs a sheet to cover herself as Kotsana looks at me with cool, calm eyes.

  The Were hoists himself off her pliant body to lean against the headboard. “Careful, Jon.” His deep voice rumbles across the space between us as he raises his hands in a placating gesture. “She’s not your mate and she wanted this.”

  I look at the silky dark hair framing Lori’s elfin face. Her huge cornflower blue eyes shimmer with excitement. My heart hardens when she reaches a hand to fondle her own nipple.

  “Want to join us, Jon?” Her other hand snakes to stroke Kotsana’s still erect cock. “I bet the three of us could have some fun.” Her head tilts to the side and she looks at her lover, perhaps trying to judge if he’s game.

  I knew she was a randy bitch, and she’s certainly been pouring off sexual pheromones every waking hour of the day, but I honestly thought I satisfied her and we were building something.

  Kotsana looks my way, recognizes my slow burn of barely controlled rage, and moves her hand from his body.

  The second she’s no longer touching him, I lunge across the bed, lugging her off the mattress by her arms. “You think it’s funny to play more than one guy, don’t you?” I grasp her shoulders and shake her hard, hoping her brain rattles in that pretty little head. “Just because you can fuck every unattached wolf you meet, doesn’t mean you should.”

  I toss her unresisting form in the direction of the door and advance on Kotsana. “You knew she was with me.”

  His dark brown eyes flit to the floor, not meeting mine. “She smelled so damn good.”

  My hands curl over the bigger man’s biceps and, in a move I’m sure I’ll regret in a few minutes, I haul his naked ass from the bed and drag him toward the closed window. “Next time you bed a horny werewolf, make sure she’s not sleeping with someone higher than you in your own freakin’ pack.” Kotsana’s face changes to fear as he looks over his shoulder, working out what I plan to do. Panic pours off his larger frame, goading me to savagery at his show of weakness. “You’ll have time to think about the wisdom of bed-hopping while you heal.”

  An
d with that, muscles bunch in my thighs and across my back as I throw the heavier man through the glass window. I turn back to Lori as she’s scrambling into her discarded clothing. The tinkle of falling glass and a dull thud reach my ears, followed by screams of pain. The big man lies shrieking on the asphalt driveway below, and I couldn’t care less.

  “Jon, please.” Fear etches the delicate lines of her face. “Let me explain.”

  I push by her, resisting the urge to pick her up and toss out her cheating ass with Kotsana. “What is left to explain? That the sex we had this morning wasn’t enough for you? That the three orgasms I gave you while you screamed your love for me left you wanting?” I storm away, past two bedrooms, to the one we shared.

  “Wait, Jon. Please!”

  My fists clench at my side, anger boiling within me as I spin around to face her. “We’re through! I’m done with this pack and the sex free-for-all you take as the status quo.” Moisture gathers in my eyes, blurring my vision. “And to think, I came here hoping to take you with me. What a fucking joke.”

  Lori’s face collapses and she starts to bawl. “Jon, no, don’t go like this. We can work it out.”

  I slam my fist into the wall near her head, destroying the dry wall and the two-by-four behind it. “How can we possibly move beyond this when I still envision you reaching for his dick and inviting me to join?” I pull my hand from the hole, staring at the dry wall dust while ragged breaths steal past my lips. “Who the hell does that?” I whisper while looking into her clear blue eyes. “Who would twist what we had the way you did?”

  She turns her face away, unable to meet my gaze any longer. Not having her with me is for the best. I can’t imagine how in the hell I thought she was a good choice, in any sense of the word.

  Lori hugs her arms around her curvy torso and sinks to the floor in the hall. I leave her to wallow in tears and quickly pack my bags, grabbing anything of personal value and all the clothes I can cram into the two large duffels.

  The whole encounter, from tossing Kotsana out the window to making my way to the driveway, took less than five minutes. One of the other female Weres, Deneishia, crouches over the injured man on the asphalt.

  Uncaring, I ignore his moans of pain and her calls for assistance. I stalk past them, climb inside my jeep, start it, and peel out of the Manitoba pack compound as fast as I can.

  Romeo will get his wish.

  I’ll never come back—no matter what.

  Chapter Two

  I drive for hours that stretch into days. No clear destination in mind besides crossing the Canadian border into the States. The idea of heading to my hometown in Williamsburg, Virginia occurs to me, but I dismiss it realizing the unanswerable questions I’d be faced with.

  My folks think I died over a year ago in the hospital due to complications during the night I was attacked. Romeo and Elsa advised that my family was unsafe with me near them, and helped to feign my death.

  Slowing to a stop for the red light ahead, a burn bubbles from my stomach at the thought of Romeo. Damn stubborn man. We’re in the twenty first century, for Christ’s sake. Who the hell wouldn’t think organizing fellow supernaturals might be a smart idea? Oh, that’s right, every damn alpha stuck in the nineteenth century.

  My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, frustration and Were strength threatening to break the plastic. I loosen my grip when a horn honks behind me. The traffic light is green and I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here ignoring it. Maybe it’s time for a break. A glance at the dashboard clock reveals it’s way past noon and I haven’t eaten since the last refill for gas around dawn.

  Awareness of my surroundings leaks back into perspective, diminishing the dull anger and some of the resentment I left in Canada. The clear May day shines on the green-shrouded highway, lush trees crowding the two-lane stretch. A road sign comes into view proclaiming I’m ten miles from Lucketsville.

  Holy shit, I’m in northern Virginia. Huh. Guess I did unconsciously drive to where I’m most comfortable.

  Lucketsville is several hours from my folks, so I’m unlikely to run into anyone here who knows me. Sounds like a good place to stop for a meal.

  After a few minutes I angle my dust-covered jeep into a parking spot outside an old-fashioned diner. I cut the engine and ease open the truck door. Humidity hits me like a wet glove and the air seems heavier in my lungs. The sweet smell of new growth and distant tilled earth greet my sensitive nose. The warmth of the sun heats my skin while I stretch the miles from my aching muscles.

  The parking lot contains eight cars, not bad for after two o’clock. Maybe the food here will be decent. Anything’s better than the gas station food I’ve had for two days straight. Last night I stayed in a cheap motel after a cop told me I couldn’t sleep in the cab of my jeep, even if he did agree it was silly law. The shower did me good and the change of clothes was well needed after days of hard driving.

  A quaint bell jangles above the glass door at my entrance. Vacant stools line the counter, but I make my way to a booth. Hours of concentrated focus on the road have left me jittery and wired, yet physically weary and exhausted. I’m not used to feeling anything other than extreme mellowness within the pack.

  Maybe coming back to Virginia was not a good idea. Being here feels familiar and yet awkward all at once.

  A plastic coated menu slides across the table into view, pulling me out of the déjà vu moment. A throat clears nearby and draws my gaze up the pink dress of the waitress who brought the menu.

  A slim woman, with a becoming smile, a blush to her cheeks, and a cap of shiny dark hair waits patiently with an order pad at the ready. “What can I get for you, hon?” She smiles again, revealing a dimple near one corner of her upturned mouth.

  I smile in response, the reaction automatic. “Coffee first, please. Black.” She dips her chin in acknowledgment. I gesture toward the menu. “Do you have any recommendations?”

  “For today’s lunch special we’ve got marinated chicken—grilled and served over fresh greens.” She smiles again. “But anything you get will be good. The cook does a great job.”

  I nod, careful to squash the frown I instinctively feel forming at the thought of ordering only a salad, and open the menu to see what else they offer.

  “I’ll get your coffee and come back for your order.” She bustles away, trailing a faint whiff of werewolf pheromones in her wake. I sit up straighter and turn in the booth, following her retreat behind the counter.

  Holy crap. She’s like me. What are the chances my first real meal since Canada is served by a werewolf? Was I pulled here subconsciously? Like pheromones in the air or something?

  Or fate. Maybe this is where you were meant to be.

  I tense, worried I’ll be discovered by my scent and that I might be infringing on another pack’s territory. I’ve got to get her alone to question her.

  Yeah, like that’s going to be easy. What young waitress wouldn’t welcome a private talk with a stranger?

  A casual examination of the restaurant reveals it isn’t as full as the parking lot would indicate. The closest diner to me sits three booths down.

  Maybe I could ask about the local pack situation out here in the open? Or should I push my own scent into the air and see if she responds?

  She’s returning with my coffee and I make a split decision. I reach inside and mentally call up an image of my old pack. Cool dark woods zip by as I race in my wolf form, surrounded by the well-known bodies that my inner beast naturally trusts.

  She sets the coffee on the table, and stares. Her nostrils flare and pupils dilate. “Well, what do we have here?” Interest leaps into her eyes. “You don’t look familiar. New in town?”

  I nod, reaching for my cup of coffee. The warmth from the ceramic seeps into my grasp, spreading up my hands. “Just stopping for a meal.” I keep my tone neutral, hoping to not alarm her. “Not poaching land.”

  Sadness sweeps across her face, quickly replaced by good humor. “
You don’t need to worry about that. There’s no claim here.”

  My eyebrows jump up my forehead. “Really?” She nods and a stillness steals over me. How could she be a lone wolf on her own? Or are there others but no alpha?

  Innate instinct creeps up, startling me with the depth of desire coiling in my gut. The need to rule and dominate other wolves washes through me, surprising me with its ferocity. She will bow to my wolf.

  Where the hell did that come from? I’m not eager to lead a pack, nor do I know enough to keep one safe.

  After a slight hesitation, a warm invitation crosses her face. “Sure you don’t want to stay in town a while? Get to know the area? There’s lots of open ground to run.”

  A feeling of home, so long suppressed under Romeo’s lead, warms my heart. “Maybe I will.” Impulsively, I extend a hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Jon.”

  That adorable blush I noticed earlier comes back, spreading up her neck as she reaches for my hand. Hers eyes dart toward the floor before briefly returning to me and flitting away. “Raine.”

  Oh, she’s familiar with a pack, all right. That was definitely a submissive wolf reaction. “Pretty name for an even prettier lady.”

  She smiles, a flirtatious look lighting her eyes. “Thanks. Now, what can I get you to eat?”

  My stomach grumbles right on cue. I laugh, the stress from Manitoba rolling off my shoulders like it never existed. “I’ll start with two steaks. Medium rare, please.”

  She winks and nods, sashaying her hips as she walks away to place my order.

  About fifteen minutes later, Raine returns with my meal. I clear my throat as the full platter slides across the table. “You wouldn’t know of any place hiring, would you?”

  “Are you okay with manual labor?” Her dark blue eyes linger on my torso as I nod. “There’s a huge construction boom in the county. Good money. If you don’t own tools you could hire on to an existing crew or find landscaping work pretty easy.”